


Pancakes And Burnt Popcorn

by wave_of_sorrow



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wave_of_sorrow/pseuds/wave_of_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sosa breaks up with Face, and then there's Murdock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes And Burnt Popcorn

She leaves him on a Monday.

He just got home from a mission he can’t tell her about and she’s getting ready to leave for work and he’s so busy admiring the way the morning sun sparkles golden in her hair that he doesn’t notice the angle of her jaw, the set of her brows.

“This isn’t working, Face,” Charissa says without preamble and he pauses with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth.

“It’s not?”

She shakes her head and pulls on her jacket. “No, it’s not,” she says and all Face can do is stare at her.

She doesn’t offer him any apologies; she doesn’t smile sadly or squeeze his shoulder as she passes him on her way out. She doesn’t even tell him to be gone by the time she gets back, but he is.

\--

“She dumped me,” Face says at the next team meeting and three pairs of eyes shoot up, meet each other, and then settle on him. “It’s fine,” he lies.

Hannibal squeezes his shoulder a little too hard and shifts the unlit cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, and says, “I told you she was trouble, kid.”

Face isn’t sure in what universe that constitutes as helpful.

“I’m sorry, man,” BA says and sounds like he means it, and that’s a little better but no more helpful.

Murdock just looks at him and offers him a smile that is seventy-five percent sadness, twenty percent warmth and only five percent crazy. That’s not really helpful either, but it makes his throat tighten and so he looks away.

There’s the sound of little plastic soldiers scattering across the tabletop and a warm hand squeezes his and all Face can do is close his eyes and breathe until it stops being so fucking painful.

\--

“I made you pancakes, Face,” Murdock says and sets a plate in front him. Smiley faces have been drawn on every single one with syrup.

“Thanks, buddy,” Face says with a forced smile, because he really doesn’t have the heart to say that he’s not hungry when Murdock is beaming at him like that.

Murdock sits with him while he eats, trying to fold a napkin into a flower, and by the time Face has finished he finds that the smile he gives Murdock comes easily and without effort.

\--

The kiss comes suddenly and without warning, and it tastes like melted butter and too much salt on burnt popcorn.

Murdock’s weight in his lap feels like something Face wants to get used to and so does the tongue stroking over his, and the hand cupping his jaw. The movie plays on unwatched and it swallows all the little sounds they’re making; the wet slide of mouths and the soft sighs when they briefly part.

Murdock’s skin is warm against Face’s hands when he slides them under his shirt and it’s all so fucking easy that Face has to force himself to trust it.

It was never this easy with her, he thinks.

And then there’s a hand opening his pants and he doesn’t think about her at all anymore for a long time.

\--

“Good work, boys,” Hannibal says and squeezes Face’s shoulder as he passes him on the way to the coffee machine.

It’s almost indecently early, way too early for the smell of cigar smoke at any rate, and Face wrinkles his nose in response. He doesn’t say anything, though, because the dark smudges under Hannibal’s eyes have taken on disturbing proportions.

“Sorry ‘bout punching you in the face, man,” BA grumbles grudgingly from where he’s got his head buried in his hands and Face has a sneaking suspicion Hannibal made him apologize.

“It’s fine,” he says, and it really is.

He meets Murdock’s eye across the kitchen table and they share a tired smile that makes all the aches in Face’s body a little more bearable.

It’s another Monday morning in another city after another mission and, with the first golden sunlight of the day flooding the room, Face feels like maybe everything’s really going to be okay.


End file.
